


Comfort

by jessebee



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes inspired by a work of art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [L](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=L).
  * Inspired by [Comfort](https://archiveofourown.org/works/470497) by [Hisstah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisstah/pseuds/Hisstah). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads have had a rough day.

 

 

 

 

“For God's sake, Bodie,” he heard Doyle say as he jerked awake yet again, yanked from the edge of sleep for the third time in – Bodie squinted at his watch – Christ, only fifteen minutes?

 

“Get some rest already, mate, turn your brain off for a bit. Can't hardly hear the telly over the cogs whirring in there.”

 

“Did that,” Bodie muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Damn thing turns right on again.” Fuck, but he was tired, had to be to let that come out of his mouth. Doyle's settee-futon thing was as comfortable as it ever was, but he was twitchy, and cold. Deep down cold, where no central heating could reach – pierced by the icy memories of that choked-off cry and Doyle falling, and the spectacular bruising where the bullets had slammed into the vest Bodie hadn't known his partner'd been wearing. The only warmth in the world was in the press of Doyle's fingers against Bodie's arm.

 

“At least lay down, then, idiot.” Doyle's voice was his own unique blend of irritation and affection. “Look, I'll hobble on off to bed and let you stretch out here, you're in no shape to drive anyway – “

 

Leave? _No._ Not when he was the only thing keeping the nightmare at bay.

 

Doyle's breath caught.

 

 _Fuck_. Had Bodie said that out loud?

 

“All right then,” Doyle murmured. He sounded tired. “But lay down. I'll just shift a bit.”

 

Lay down? Yes. But that'd only work if -

 

Doyle was moving, but slowed by the plaster cast swathing his right calf and ankle. So Bodie moved too, tipping himself sideways and falling, into Doyle's lap, right against his partner's chest.

 

Right there, where he could hear, feel, Ray's heartbeat. Maybe now he could rest.

 

A sharply in-drawn breath; stillness against, beneath him. “Bodie?”

 

“Might sleep now,” Bodie mumbled, settling a hand against the wiry arm that had caught him. Ray always caught him. And God, but Ray was warm. So warm and Bodie was nearly always cold now, even without bloody awful days like today; had been ever since sodding Africa had rewired his thermostat for him. So warm, and smelled so damn good. Bodie half-closed his eyes, soaking in the feel of Ray's body, comfort in the lee of his partner's shoulder, the implacable living strength beneath the soft, ugly cotton shirt. How the hell he'd ever fallen for somebody who thought stripes a good sartorial choice.... “Might. Need you 'ere, though.”

 

“Bodie,” Doyle said, low and thick. “You know I – Christ, don't – mess me about here, mate.”

 

 _Know – how you feel? Of course I bloody know, been goin' there forever and y' all but said it the other day, in actual words even, stupid brave bastard that you are. And say it back, I will. Soon._ “'m not. Wouldn't. Not wi' this.”

 

“Christ,” Doyle said again. Then the pressure of Doyle's other arm came across Bodie's upper back, strong fingers curving around his shoulder. “Rest your busy head. I've got you,” Doyle murmured, close in, his breath stirring Bodie's hair.

 

“Know y'do,” Bodie said, and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

  



	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside it's raining....

 

 

 

“F' God's sake, Bodie.”

 

“What? Said 'have a seat,' didn't you?”

 

“On the sofa, you berk, not on _me._ ”

 

“On the sofa, you said. Which is bloody tiny and _you_ are already on it,” Bodie stated, clearly quite happy with his own logic and if Doyle was too thick to see it....

 

“Hm. Could just dump you off, I suppose,” Doyle said, amused, draping an arm around his partner's back. Bodie would ever be Bodie....

 

“Hmph.” Dark head and broad, black-clad shoulders shifted minutely, Bodie settling himself more firmly against Doyle's chest. “Dump me off,” he groused. “Fine lover you are.”

 

Doyle's breath caught. Bodie had never used that word before; not about _them_ , any road. “That what we are, then?” he said, and immediately wanted to bite his tongue off as Bodie tensed.

 

“Aren't we?”

 

 _Oh, God._ Doyle tightened his arms and put his head down, his nose nearly into Bodie's hair. “Yes,” he got out, and swallowed. “Yes.”

 

For a little while there was only Bodie's weight and warmth in Doyle's arms, and the careful softness of two sets of breathing being steadied. “Been a bit slow, have you?” Bodie said eventually.

 

Doyle smiled against Bodie's hair. “Apparently.”

 

“And you being Sherlock Doyle 'n all.”

 

“Don't mock the afflicted, Bodie, 's not nice.”

 

Bodie chuckled and stretched, rubbing across Doyle's lap, and Doyle's breath caught again but for an entirely different reason. “Ah, but you like it when I'm not nice.”

 

Doyle gave a rather filthy chuckle of his own. Such a beautiful day it was, chucking down rain and all. “I do, don't I?” he murmured, and nibbled on Bodie's ear.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the amazing L, who created the marvelous painting which inspired these humble little stories. Enormous heartfelt thanks to S, who saved me from mistakes I didn't even know I'd made.  
> Second chapter (vignette) added 2/27/13.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Comfort](https://archiveofourown.org/works/470497) by [Hisstah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisstah/pseuds/Hisstah)




End file.
